Businees and Displeasure
by tearsofbreakingglass
Summary: Austria invites the other principles of the Sixth Coalition against Napoleon - Russia, Britain, and Prussia - to his home to hammer out the details of their alliance. For three nights, bad behavior stacks up as each nation is forced to deal with each other in such close quarters. Some new friendships will emerge while others will rapidly deteriorate.
1. Chapter 1

_Vienna, 1813. _

France had been growing too ambitious. His quest for dominance had put him in direct confrontation with the other European powers. Unfortunately for them, he'd become the most powerful he'd ever been, surpassing the strength he'd had under Louis XIV. None of them stood a chance fighting him by themselves or in smaller coalitions. They were going to have to do what they'd never succeeded at before: working as a team.

With this goal in mind, Austria had invited Prussia, Britain, and Russia into his home. It would be best for them to hash out the details of their alliance along with a general strategy for how to take down the growing menace in person, unimpeded by the delays in letters arriving or having to work through representatives. Part of him was pleased at the idea, it hadn't been tried by any of them in their prior alliances, where they would only meet up together for battle. The other part of him had gnawing doubts about allowing Russia and Prussia into his home. Britain was a proper aristocrat like himself. He could trust Arthur to show him and his family the proper respect they deserved. Ivan and Gilbert were brutes, they were the wild card. He'd have to hold them to account.

"You're pacing, dear, what's the matter?" Behind her concerned words, Hungary couldn't hide her boredom. She was standing in front of the mirror, holding up different dresses to find which one suited her best.

"This is very stressful for me, Erzsébet. I hope you'll understand that. I want France's reign of terror to be over, but I resent that it means opening our home to savages!"

"Don't worry, I'll keep a close eye on Gilbert. I'll make sure he's on his best behavior." She smiled at her reflection, her voice a silky purr.

Roderich's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure you will, _Liebling_." His voice dripped with disdain. "That's the one thing I can always count on from you." He heard the sounds of his parlor beginning to fill downstairs. He saw her slipping into her dress out the corner of his eye as he began exiting the room. "You always look fat in red." He quickly shut the door. He laughed hearing the thump of a book hitting it and his wife cursing in Hungarian.

Down below, Britain, Prussia, and Russia intermingled. "It was a right bitch getting over here, let me tell you that. The damn blockade that frog had on me made it difficult to cross the Channel. Thankfully, God smiles upon the English and we made it."

"Oh, how did you do it?" Russia smiled with genuine interest.

Arthur's face shifted into a wicked grin. "By blowing up five of his ships!" Gilbert and Ivan shared a look as Arthur barely contained his laugh. And everyone considered _them _the maniacs?

"Gentlemen, it's so lovely to see you all here. I hope the road didn't leave you too weary and that your journey went untroubled." Roderich entered, shooing out the staff that lingered in the room. He put on his most winning smile. "If you're all up to it, I hope we can begin some business straight away. The sooner we get done with everything, the sooner you'll all be back home." And the sooner you'll all be out of my hair, he added to himself.

The suggestion was met with no grumbling. Austria led the men up into his study. They arranged themselves around the map of Europe folded out on the table. "I can secure financing for whatever operations we carry out. The Royal Navy has been undertaking skirmishes along the Channel and North Sea, along with anywhere French ships are foolish enough to be. Within a couple weeks I can have my men bombarding the French coastline to pull troops away from whatever joint land engagements you three begin. Prussia, your men should meet up with the Hanoverians before marching east to-" Britain cut himself off. He felt the icy stare of Austria upon him. "Is something the matter?"

"I didn't realize we were going to be receiving our marching orders from London. If I had known, I would've insisted on the meeting being held at your home instead of mine." Austria balled his hands into fists behind his back. "How foolish of me to forget that we could count on Great Britain having a plan himself for how we lowly continentals would do all the work." He bowed with mock respect. "My sincerest apologies."

"Oh, you suddenly have a better idea? My intel might have been off. Aren't you three the ones who have led the previous campaigns and been embarrassingly crushed each time? By all means though, if you suddenly have the expertise to pull this off, Austria, go ahead. I'll return to my place in the back benches." Britain smugly shrugged. "Though I would consult with the other two before doing anything so drastic."

Prussia was leaned up against the farthest wall. "You're the only one that's been able to scrape some meaningful victories against this bastard. I'm certainly not having my king take a leading role, the guy has no military sense and no balls to listen to anyone with any experience. From working with him, I can tell you Austria doesn't either."

"Bold of you to insult my army when you're the one who's capital was overtaken! Who do you think you are?" Austria sniffed.

"I already admitted to my flaws. Man up and do the same. The capable men we have defected to Russia to keep up the fight since the morons wanted to help France. Thankfully, this new coalition had them return, but I'm not risking losing them and their allegiance again through another one of our half-baked schemes! We listen to Britain or I work on rebuilding my nation until you three sort this out." Prussia shrugged. "No skin off my bones."

Russia stepped in between the opposing sides before it could get any more heated. "Just a second. Let's hear Austria out before we shoot him down. Maybe he actually had a decent plan this time?" He smiled, all fake pleasantry directed at his host. "I hope you finally figured something out. I'm getting tired of providing the most men only to get so many killed."

Cornered. "I expected us to come away with a plan over the week." Austria averted his gaze from the other three. No one needed to see his embarrassment.

"Then no need for all the fuss, eh?" Britain placed a firm hand on Austria's shoulder. Roderich never remembered the Briton being quite this strong. "I've got some ideas on what we can do, where we can route troops and trap the French. 'Course you three know the topography best and where we'll have the best advantages, but rest assured that I've got an ample outline we can hammer out tomorrow. Hope you chaps don't mind me wanting to save it till then. It's been rough sailing the past few days to get here."

Supremely humiliated, Roderich called in two of his maids to show Ivan and Arthur to their rooms. He glared at Gilbert as he moved to his desk. "I suppose you're satisfied. An hour in and I've already made an ass of myself. Though I do like your threat of leaving if you had to listen to me. Your flair for the dramatics hasn't weakened since the last I saw you."

"Oh, get over yourself. You know my satisfaction will come later tonight." A shark-like smile. Gilbert paced slowly through the room, admiring what was on the shelves. "Thank you, I try to give my best performance for the audience. Can't let them know that I'm waiting to dig my boot into your throat. Has to be the pretense of diplomacy."

"Mmm." In honesty, Roderich was paying him no mind. It was easy to tune out this type of baiting the other when it had become routine after so long. "It would be best if you went to your room. You shouldn't get it confused with mine this time since I've unfortunately had to put you on the ground floor."

"Funny. If I recall, I was able to get your staff to move me next to yours for a couple hundred thalers. Amazing what the underpaid will do for money, isn't it?" Prussia winked at the Austrian as he gaped at him in fury. "I'll see you at dinner, neighbor."

Once the door was closed again, Roderich buried his face in his hands. He couldn't escape the feeling that he'd invited the devil into his home.

After spending time to recover and unpack in their own rooms, all the guests eventually made their way to the parlor. A haze of thick fog hung over the room as Britain and Prussia chain smoked from their pipes. Russia politely had his trademark scarf over his mouth, helping to filter the harsh air somewhat. Austria, still lapping up his ego, hung in the back of the room reading.

Eventually, Hungary joined the men. She had paid extra attention to making sure every hair was in place, that all her make-up was done with extreme precision. Extracting himself from whatever boring war stories Prussia and Britain were trading, Russia extended a hand out to her, pleasing her with the gesture befitting an equal and not some feeble arm-candy. "Erzsébet! So good to see you, how have you been? I fear it's been too long since I've been in the presence of your charms."

"Oh, Ivan, you're as adorable as ever. You know how it is," her eyes flashed towards Roderich, who was completely oblivious. "I've been here in my gilded cage. Attending to whatever I'm told befits my station. I hope you've been faring better."

Ivan tsked. "What a shame. You should be out with us, fighting! You're one of the fiercest warriors I've had the honor of fighting with and against. I'd love to see what you would do in command. You should be in the meetings with us."

That actually touched her. She put a hand on his arm and nodded her head in the direction of her dear husband. "I'd love to, why don't you try and convince him though." Pleasantly surprised, Russia raced off to do just that. Her eyes met with Roderich's, whose own burned with a deep disgust at her insubordination. Erzsébet huffed. It wasn't as if she set Ivan up to do this, he was his own man capable of making his own choices.

"Hungary, how rude of me, I didn't see you there. Come and join us, would you like a drink?" She was snapped out of her thoughts by a jovial Britain. She noticed his empty glass. That explained his good mood.

"Now, Britain, you shouldn't be the one offering to get me anything. This is my home, I can get it myself." She nodded at one of the maids, who quickly poured her a glass of red wine. Britain took her hand and kissed it politely. She was always amused by his gentlemanly act. Why pretend to be nobler than the rest of them? Everyone knew of his brutality, of his ruthlessness. She supposed it helped him sleep at night, to have the thin veneer of goodness.

"How sweet you are. Oi, Austria, what a wife you've got. You should consider yourself lucky."

"Oh, yes. What a wife I have indeed." Roderich's voice was deadpanned. "How ever could I manage without her."

"Yes, your mistress is quite a lovely one." Gilbert's eyes glistened a fiery red. "I might even say she's the fairest in all the land." He snaked his arm around Erzsébet's waist and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, close to her lips. She couldn't resist leaning into his touch nor wipe the satisfied smile off her face.

Arthur's eyes widened. He took a step back. He silently chided himself for not paying more attention to the interpersonal affairs of the continental nations. Perhaps if he did, then he would've known what kind of mess he'd wandered into. When he found no drink left in his glass to provide some escape from the second-hand embarrassment he felt for Roderich, he quickly excused himself towards the bar.

For his part, Roderich was reeling from the shock. When it had been the three of them, he was used to Gilbert and Erzsébet's lack of discretion. He had expected them to be on their best behavior in front of the other's, not because they respected him, but out of respect for themselves. He slammed his book shut and resisted the urge to begin bludgeoning them both with it. "Careful, Prussia," he hissed. Ice ran hot through his veins.

"With no disrespect to you, Hungary, I'd have to say my sisters are the fairest. Natalya is quite the beauty, any man would be lucky to be with her." Ivan pulled at his scarf sheepishly. "Not me, of course. And Katyusha might be rather plain in appearance, but her heart is twice the size of all my lands. I don't think I could ever meet a woman that surpasses their beauty."

The other four nations were taken aback by this. Not by Ivan's love of his sisters, that was well known, but his lack of ability to read the room. He had seemed oblivious to any sort of slight that occurred. Prussia and Hungary wondered if they needed to be more obvious next time, Austria wondered if it wasn't obvious enough and that he'd blown it out of proportion, and Britain wondered how he'd managed to find himself surrounded by such morons. A truly perplexing situation for all.

Russia looked around between them. "Was that too much?" Then he zeroed in on Prussia's arm, still around Hungary's waist, and finally understood. "Oh. Ah. Well." His brain short-circuited. He quickly scrambled over to Britain. "Say, I've never been to India. What's it like down there?"

Both men took their escape and prattled on about the jungles of India and the strange customs they had there. Prussia, Hungary, and Austria continued staring each other down. Austria rose and silently moved over to them. "You've made your point now, are you satisfied?"

"I keep telling you, my satisfaction won't come until tonight. Though it is sweet of you to keep checking on me." Gilbert placed a hand on Roderich's cheek and adopted a sickeningly sweet tone. "You've always been such a provider, Roddy."

Roderich slapped his hand away. "Erzsébet, it would be advised that you go see what needs to be done in the kitchen. Now." He waited till she had bustled off before continuing. "I don't know what game you're getting at, Gilbert, but you're in my home. I've extended a basic courtesy to you and I demand it to be returned. I will not accept being disrespected in front of everyone else." His voice was low, a fierce whisper so no eavesdroppers could pick up on what was being said. "I will not be cuckolded!"

"You won't? Oh no, I'm afraid it's too late for that message." Gilbert wore a shit-eating grin. Roderich's fingers twitched to smack it off his face, to ruin the carpets with his blood, all noble pretenses be damned. "I'll do what I damn well please. Try to stop me."

With that, the Prussian turned on his heel and joined the other three. He felt Austria's eyes burning a hole in his back, but shrugged them off. He was thriving off this. He could give a damn about what they planned this week around. They'd make their plan to take down France and that would be it, he knew it would come together now with Britain's forces and money. What he'd desired was another romp through the mud with Austria, to assert himself as the dominant force between the two of them. Assert he would and pity the fool he tried to stop him.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day brought more meetings. Again, the foursome found themselves seated around Austria's desk, staring down a map of Europe. Britain once again took over as the de-facto commander. "I think the best we can do is squeeze him on all sides, wherever his men are." He pointed to where they'd made blue marks, symbolizing the location of troops loyal to Napoleon. "For a few thousand pounds and a promise of supplementing them some troops, we'll be able to get Spain and Portugal more proactively on the offensive. They don't have to be particularly domineering, but enough to cause some trouble and bog down whatever French contingents are there. Thankfully, my men have already been fighting there for a year so that should soon be resolved and we can push into France. Once we're in, Napoleon will have to decide whether to continue running amok throughout Germany or go defend his homeland." He smiled, sneeringly. "Francis will force him to defend Paris, of course. But taking the capital has never required much effort."

Prussia yawned. "That's great that you've got your own plan for glory mapped out, rule Britannia and all, but are you just going to insult how we've been doing things and not tell us how to improve?" He threw his hands up in the air. "I need a better idea of what we're doing beyond 'hey, you don't mind if we do all the fighting in Brandenburg?' If we can start by pushing into the Rhine territories, rough them up until they switch sides, it'll take less time to force the French back into their own country."

"Well it's a little late for that sentiment, isn't it? There's French troops crawling freely through your cities! I understand not wanting to make it any worse for you or your people, but you'll have to toughen it out for a bit longer. If it's food or other supplies you're worried about, I'll break through the barricade and sneak ships out to get things to you." Arthur smiled, truly meaning to be kind while Gilbert took it as dismissive. "Think of the end result. Stiff upper lip, we'll all get through it."

"There's a lot of buildup in the east. He seems to have taken up residence more in Saxony than Brandenburg. Perhaps we can take the fighting there? If we manage to kick them out and have cavalry harass them along the way, the French might get the message that they're no longer welcome here." Russia smiled and this time Prussia took it for what it was, an attempt to be actually providing meaningful assistance. "It's the perfect spot, out of Gilbert's territory so no one important is getting harassed and in between us and Austria so we can get to them fairly easily."

Austria nodded along. "And, whether we like it or not, the three of us have ample experience fighting there. That's one good thing to come out of the Silesian Wars."

"There were more good things than that. I got Silesia, after all. I think that's been best for us all." Prussia grinned. Their silence was telling and his ego deflated.

"Anyways, we'll be able to use our knowledge to the advantage. Napoleon running around through it doesn't provide much practical experience on which hills are best for battle and Francis preferred to stay at home whenever his armies were there. They'll both be utterly useless. As for Saxony himself, if he and Bavaria have to hide behind France's coattails for defense then they're no longer a threat on their own. Prussia and I can work on weakening them further in the meantime."

Something malicious glinted in both their eyes. Yes, they would both enjoy that, especially if that meant control over some new territory along their borders. Britain cleared his throat. "Rich coming from me considering the whole reason I'm in this but try not to go crazy settling old scores. We'll need maximum strength for the real enemy. Afterwards then you two can go cutting up all of Germany as you see fit, but not before we reduce France to tears." He smiled at the thought. If there was a god that was merciful, Arthur would be the one to relish in that sight first. "All that being settled, that leaves the matter of financing for the war tomorrow. I hope you three brought your checkbooks!" Collecting his things, he laughed and left the room.

"That was unnecessary. He acts like we're poor!" Ivan scowled. He childishly stuck out his tongue at the door. "Who died and anointed him king?"

"France." Austria grumbled. The truth of the statement elicited a weak laugh from the group.

"How could we forget, it's England's world and we're all just living in it. If we don't kiss the boot enough, we might get invaded and become his next colony." Prussia's bitter remark invoked more of a laugh. Before they could help themselves, they were trading barbs about England and his arrogant demeanor. He was always nice enough in small doses, but having to spend more than a few hours with him? Well, they certainly understood why America fought so desperately for his independence. Maybe they could find a way to get themselves independent from him or push his stupid little island farther away from the rest of Europe. And while they were at it, why not saw off France too and send them both the same way? Then they could just fight each other to the death while leaving the rest be.

Russia chuckled. "Ah, but you two don't mean that. Without them, you two would begin going at it like crazy people. You'd try taking whatever was left for yourselves like the greedy little children you are." He sat his head on his hands and cocked it to the side. He appeared so menacing and childlike at the same time. "If you did that, I'd end you both so quickly you'd think you were Poland." He giggled at how shocked they were. "You both are so transparent. Don't believe yourselves better than them when the four of you are cut from the same cloth." With that, he left them in silence.

"What did we do to him to deserve that? I thought Ivan was my friend!" Gilbert crossed his arms. "No better than Arthur and Francis? The two of us? We're loads better! Especially because I wouldn't have the trouble Arthur has in crushing you once and for all."

"I think it was his way of giving us friendly advice, but it sure didn't feel friendly." Roderich rolled his eyes. "Give it up, you yourself admit your army's in bad shape right now. You couldn't defeat an invasion from Cleves, let alone my army. Defeating you would take half my forces and one eye closed."

Prussia rose, as did his temper. "Oh, and the Little Master is out here commanding his troops any better! I get my men back in shape, fire the useless, and it's over for you. You'll be on your knees before me, begging for mercy. But don't worry, I'd treat you well. Your head would hang on the shiniest pike in Berlin with a paper crown for a paper empire."

"You're kidding right? You're washed up, you're a joke. You're no longer the state you used to be, Gilbert. It would take a couple of infantry, some hussars, a couple of cannons and you'd be done for. I'd be in Berlin and no one would care or stop me. I'd be able to finally take your heart from your chest, stilling you forever more, and hang it up on the mantelpiece. It would serve as a warning to any and all who sympathized with you or dared to defy me next of what I was capable of. And no annoying Prussian-check on my power to pretend to care about the little guy." As he spoke, Austria had backed Prussia into a corner. His right hand stood in the space between their chests. Prussia saw red, his fist twitched, he swung for Austria's jaw but was blocked. "You fucking idiot, you think you can pull the same move on me so soon? Learn some new tricks."

Russia clapped. "Wow, way to prove my point." Prussia and Austria jolted back. They forced back on their more civilized demeanor. "I wish you two would act like this more often in front of us all. So much more riveting and with an incredible amount of tension! Are you two always like this?"

Feeling panicked, they both switched into German. Russia shook his head. "You two are speaking so fast that I don't understand what you're screaming at me. No? No, no, no, no? You fuck-Gilbert that's not nice."

Eventually they calmed down. Austria managed composure enough to speak normally first. "I merely was so enamored with the idea of murdering him in cold blood that I got carried away. Surely you, of all nations, can understand that. We're normally much better behaved than this. The idea of unchecked power, even when not acted upon, is such a corrosive force. We're very good people, I assure you Ivan. We would never be like those two, ruining the world to kill each other. Pure fantasy nothing more!"

Prussia became much less eloquent once he figured out how to communicate again. "I got carried away with him begging on his knees, but I don't want him to actually do that! It was just a subtle way of letting him know how I'd dominate him! But not like that! I'd dominate him physically through capturing all his cities and having each state he controls turn against him, not in a weird way! Why are you making this weird? Is it so wrong for a man to want to kill his worse enemy? Oh, shit, yeah what he said. We totally don't act like this in private. We are men of moral character who haven't gotten in a fistfight in my basement recently. Yeah, we're actually best friends and this is just an act to impress people."

Austria jumped onto that. "Exactly! If people knew how much we loved each other - as cousins! As cousins, the best of cousins - they would be upset because they'd feel jealous that their family couldn't be like ours. We're so close that we share the same wife, look at us!" They put their arms around each other and smiled wide. "Nothing to think about here, so why don't you never bring that up again."

Ivan nodded, his eyebrows raised upward in apparent amusement. "I love you two, you're both so fragile. I can say anything and it sets you off." He laughed heartily, clutching at his stomach. "Thanks for revealing all of that personal information to me. You two will be the talk of Moscow when I return." He laughed off to his room, leaving Gilbert and Roderich feeling incredibly debased. They pushed each other away.

"Why mention that about Erzsi to him? What an idiot you are. Think before you speak next time!" Gilbert sneered at him. "That would require you to have a brain first of all."

"As if you've been trying to be secretive about it all! And how about you, why mention a fistfight in your basement? It wasn't even much of a fight, all you did was punch me and cause me to bite through my lip." He returned Gilbert's sneer. "Forget it, get the hell away from me. You've caused me enough trouble for the night."

"Fine, I was going to my room anyways!"

"Fine!"

They continued shouting fine at each other till Gilbert's door slammed shut. Roderich banged his head against the wall. He needed a new life, this one had grown too ridiculous for him to handle anymore.

"I hope everything was alright before. From my room I heard a lot of frantic yelling in...I believe it was German? It all seemed to blur together. Did something happen?" Arthur mainly directed his question at Gilbert, who was focused on a painting next to Arthur's head.

Ivan laughed. "Oh, you missed it. It was the funniest thing. Gilbert and-"

Gilbert had placed his hand over the Russian's mouth. "Ivan, I'm telling you this because I care about you. If you breathe a word of that to anyone, you're losing your only friend."

He thought over this. In his eyes, Arthur observed Ivan go through frustration, bargaining, and then acceptance. Gilbert removed his hand. "Harsh, but very fair. I'm sorry Arthur, that must've been the wind. Nothing happened after you left."

The Briton looked between Ivan and Gilbert, then Gilbert and Ivan. "I-I-I, I guess so. Very well then. Cheers." Shaking his head, he drank back all his whiskey before pouring himself another glass.

Gilbert bit his tongue to prevent himself from laughing, but he did nudge Ivan with his shoulder and the two shared a bemused look. He gestured to the deck of cards lying on the nearby table. "Forget idle chatter. Why don't we play a bit of poker."

Relieved to be back in normal territory, Arthur would agree to just about anything. "Certainly fills up the time." He peered around Ivan to look at Erzsébet and Roderich. "Will you two be joining us?"

"It would be rude to say no, wouldn't it dear?" More seemingly polite words laced with the faintest bit of malice. Erzsébet rose and made her way over to the other's, sitting herself between Prussia and Britain.

Roderich sighed. He knew she was geared up for this fight, but he didn't have it in him after the events from before. "You have fun, I'm an awful poker player."

"Maybe now we could make it strip poker if you're in." Gilbert had a hungry look about him. The room let out a collective breath after Erzsébet smacked him in the back of the head for the remark and called him crass. There would be no repeat of the previous night.

The group doled out the cards and the pennies they were playing for. The game carried on peacefully, the air filling with the usual joy of the winner and frustrations of the losers. It was so mundane that Roderich found that he had tuned them out completely and was engrossed in his book.

It seemed to Arthur as if Erzsébet and Gilbert could pick up on this somehow and use it as pretext for increased flirting. It started with Hungary leaning against his arm.

Gilbert looked down at her with an endeared look on his face. "Are you seriously trying to look at my cards?"

"Why would I need to do that? I'm beating you aren't I?" The feigned innocence almost worked. Almost because Erzsébet couldn't help herself leaning further to actually get a good look. "No wonder you've lost so much. What a bad hand."

Gilbert gently nudged her back upright. "Hey, there's a strategy here. Maybe you can't see it, but I'm three steps ahead of everyone and it's clear as day. So eye's on your own cards and learn from the master." His tone was chiding, but too familiar for it to not raise suspicion in Arthur. He glanced at Roderich and found him obliviously focusing on his book.

"She's not lying, your hand really is awful." Ivan looked over Gilbert's shoulder. "That's why you keep folding."

"Fuck it, I'm getting a new hand." Prussia switched out his cards quickly and put them in coat jacket, away from prying eyes.

"Oi, Gilbert. Try not to be so uncouth." Children. Britain was dealing with children. If he wanted to deal with this type of behavior, he would've visited Australia.

The Prussian rolled his eyes. "Seriously? Who do you think you are, my Vatti?"

Arthur forced a strained smile on his face. He looked between Ivan and Erzsébet. "Would you two mind pretending not to know English for a second?" Once they confirmed in their native languages, he pointed at Gilbert and dropped the fake smile. "You're a right cunt."

Instead of being properly insulted, his newly adopted children were howling in laughter. They had apparently never seen a more thrilling thing than Arthur using such a strong word before. If he knew how popular unrestrained cursing would make him, he might have considered that as his preferred mode of diplomacy. If all it took to secure the Anglo-Prussian alliance was insulting Prussia, then what a fool he was spending hundreds of thousands of pounds to make weak impressions on Gilbert's monarchs. As for Russia, well, what do you expect from a man whose culture revolves around wearing strange hats and doing completely inane dances? No wonder his nation reigned supreme above others.

In all the excitement, Arthur's neatly stacked pile of pennies got knocked to the floor. Grumbling, he knelt down to pick it up. A rough hand on a soft thigh, the image flashed in the corner of his eye. He took a hesitant glance before averting his gaze back on his scattered change. "For heaven's sake," he mouthed, not wanting to risk anyone hearing and having this turn into a scene. He cursed them. He cursed Gilbert and Erzsébet for being so blatant and he cursed Roderich for being so spineless in affairs of the heart (and, if Erzsébet's behavior was any indication, of the body too). He even cursed Ivan for being so oblivious, whether willfully or because his head was filled with slush, to everything going on around them. How did Roderich not realize he was setting himself up for disaster and Gilbert not realize that, somehow, this would blow up in his face? Fools, damned fools, the whole lot of them.

The Briton rose from the table, considering one game to be sufficiently over. He pitied poor Austria the most. To lack such control of his household or, more likely, being up against two stubborn forces of nature had to wear on him. Arthur himself understood, he'd been there through his dealings with France and Spain as equals and with America and Australia as caregiver. The idiot likely no had friends, was completely loathed by anyone who might be sympathetic to him due to his unlikable personality, and too emotionally constrained to try and forge a deep connection with another person. Was he projecting too much? He shook that thought off. No, Arthur was certain, he understood Roderich and he was going to have a companion through the rest of this week whether he liked it or not.

Roderich did not like it.


	3. Chapter 3

Roderich relished his alone time. He was up later than he wanted to stay, but he couldn't figure out a way to shake Arthur off effectively nor could he force himself to shoo the Briton out of the room. He had more manners than that, but was now regretting his politeness. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was better to go into the next day feeling more energized than he's been the last few days. Too many people in too small space.

He moved quietly up the steps, not wanting a squeaky floor to disturb the staff or Ivan sleeping on the ground floor. He also didn't want to trip, something he'd been known to do at this late of an hour. He crept into his room, not wanting to wake a sleeping Erzsébet, and headed straight for the closet.

With one hand he selected a nightshirt, the other played a phantom concerto that sounded brilliant in his mind. There couldn't be too many days of this, he decided. No, not many at all. He would be able to go about his days as he preferred, no one to command his attention or that he had to cater to. The intoxicating feeling of being one's own master, servicing all his needs as they came to him.

Where was that noise coming from? Soft grunts could be heard coming from deeper within the closet. He moved further in, until suddenly stopping. Understanding hit him. Roderich held out a hand against the wall, afraid that if he used too much force the whole thing would collapse. A feeling of utter shock carried through him.

He tried to rationalize the whole thing. How could he know who was in there with Gilbert? He couldn't! Prussia wouldn't be above sleeping with whatever maid he could get his filthy paws on. And while he couldn't condone a mortal woman sleeping with a man she wasn't married with, it was their choice. Nothing he, as Roderich Edelstein or _Österreich_, could have done to prevent this outcome.

If that was the case, why did he feel so afraid to return to the bedroom and check on his wife? The part of him that remained cool and rational was sneering. If he was so sure, why was he slumped against the wall with his feet cemented to the ground? Why then couldn't he move? And why be so surprised when this - whatever this may be - had happened multiple times. He knew it did, he was always told as much. Oh, now he was going to stand up for himself! Big man Roderich, finally asserting that he be afforded some personal respect and dignity by the same people he'd denied it to on multiple occasions. Hadn't his slights also struck them as personal? Weren't they in a long tit-for-tat going back at least a century, if not more?

Roderich leaned his head back up and stared at the ceiling. This was pointless, this whole exercise in thought. None of it mattered. Nothing could be proven or disproven to him if he buried his head in the sand. He refused to look at the other side of the bed when he reentered the room. A gnawing feeling still came to him. He smiled and locked the door. If she wasn't there, Roderich felt certain that Erzsébet would be capable of finding a bed for the night in such a large home. He blew out the candle and did his best to shut his mind off for the night.

"Really, none of you are willing to take out any loans?" Britain sniffed. "What a waste of paper. I brought all these banknotes on the promise to the Bank of England they'd make a killing off these loans. To think, war used to be so profitable."

Russia, Austria, and Prussia shared annoyed looks. "Can you blame us for wanting to check in with our finance ministers before going into further debt to you? Wouldn't it be better for us all if we could afford to pay you back in time?" Austria removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I suppose, but you men have no idea how much we can make on interest alone. It would be enough to fund all your governments for the next five years." Britain winced, realizing too late that might be a bit harsh. "That's not a poor joke, of course. It's more a comment on how many pounds we make per year."

"It definitely was a poor joke of some variety." Prussia grumbled.

Austria rose, clasping his hands together. "Well then, it seems we have all the basics sorted out. I think we can safely call an end to this whole string of meetings. If there's any further complications or questions as we more concretely hammer out the details through the usual channels or one of you could host the next event like this." He prayed to God that he wouldn't feel forced into having them all in his home again. Seeing no interjections from the group, he pressed on ahead. "I'll leave you three to pack. Feel free to let me know what time you plan on leaving and I'll have a carriage ready for you."

Russia and Britain made their way out of the room, looking eager to get home as soon as possible. Prussia moved lazily, taking his time. He'd made the trip from Vienna to Berlin, and all the major cities in between, before. It took a day and a half at most, if they decided to move at a leisurely pace. Time was one of the few luxuries he could still afford.

"Gilbert, may I speak with you for a moment?"

"Hmm? Oh, sure. What do you need?"

The earnestness on the Prussian's face caught Roderich off guard. Not a hint of any idea why the Austrian would be asking to speak with him. His heart begged him to not let his eyes play a trick on him, but how could he deny the evidence before his very face? It could very well be possible that Roderich, in his exhaustion, had invented the whole thing and nastily locked his wife out of their marital bed. He winced at the thought. If that was the case, then he surely deserved any retribution he got.

"Roddy? Are you in there? Are you communing with the heavens?" Gilbert bit his lip, for once suppressing his laughter at his cousin's expense. In that moment, Roderich could almost see how some people could find him charming. Almost.

"My apologies. My mind trailed off to...somewhere that doesn't concern you." He cleared his throat. "Ah, right I wanted to let you know that, ah..." Quick, formulate some excuse. "What we'd talked about a few years back, the last time I saw you in Berlin. If this goes well and you prove yourself capable of working in a team then I'll help you beat back the worst of the nationalist sentiment sweeping across Germany. As long as it remains in my best interest, of course."

"Of course, always have to look out for number one." Gilbert smiled and Roderich picked up a glimmer of hostility behind his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. He felt thrown off by the lack of animalism in his behavior. Seeing the Prussian act in a semi-civilized way was throwing Roderich off. "Now, if that's all you had to say then I'll be in my room."

Austria watched him leave. He remained deeply unsettled but tried to push that out of mind. There was no point to the exercise, there was nothing he could currently do to resolve the situation so it was best to leave it for a more opportune moment. He would need to fill his mind with much more pleasurable pursuits in the interim.

Another late night, but this one filled with so much more joy. Roderich rose from his piano and stretched. It felt good to feel free to return to his music after so many days away. His guests had spent most of their time secluded, packing and arranging their return routes home, enabling him to spend his time as he wanted instead of trying to be polite by being easily accessible.

As he climbed up the stairs, he rubbed his wrists. How his hands ached, but what a magnificent sensation it was! This was how he knew he was still alive, that after all these centuries there was still this very human part of him inside. He remembered seeing one of those tracts from America, about how welcoming God into your life and singing his praises would bring about a rebirth of one's life. Roderich wasn't sure how much of that he believed - he put his belief in the authority of the Catholic church as it could be witnessed, but God himself? He'd seen too many horrors - but he could empathize. For them it was belief in a higher power, for him it was the healing power of the one true universal language.

In good spirits, he smiled seeing the candle was still on his bedchambers. Perhaps Erzsébet had waited up for him after all. Or, if that was too much, maybe she was reading and they could talk a little bit before retiring for the night. They both had some apologizing to do and he was currently in a mood receptive to criticism. Maybe they could pretend to get along until daybreak, when they would inevitably return to their norm. It was the same dance they always did, but today he was willing to sing its tune.

A voice too low in octave to ever belong to a woman. A streak of white hair. Hushed promises, so lewd he didn't dare think about them. A flash of a bare breast before being enveloped in a hand too rough to handle anything with care. Frozen, absolutely frozen. He thought he heard the word love, but didn't want to hear the context. Soft pants, satisfied moans, the upset that he'd never heard her make those noises before. The embarrassment as Gilbert's earlier taunt about 'marital duties' rang in his ears. The further embarrassment at feeling like such a voyeur.

His damn feet, why did they have to be glued to the spot again? Roderich glanced at the sword on the wall. He could imagine himself, running in and impaling Gilbert through. Red, that bastard always saw red so why shouldn't he be red? Maybe if his skin matched his eyes, he wouldn't be such a freak. And where would that leave her? No, he could never hurt her like that. But he could damn well throw her out on the street and care less whether she made it to Budapest in one piece. Yes, that would work, that would be fitting payback. Roderich reached up high, but stumbled, his feet scuffing on the wood.

"What was that?" Her voice, Erzsébet's voice. Roderich wanted her to appear nervous, but she just sounded bored. Do they really not care? Is he this weak?

The sound of a kiss. Roderich imagined their lips touching. How vile. "Nothing, but I'll check if the doors locked." His voice, growing closer. Roderich's feet remained firmly planted where they were. He wondered how the Italians were so skillful at running away in times like these. He wondered why _that _was the first thing that came to his mind.

Gilbert spotted him. Red meets violet. Gilbert smiled, that stupid, arrogant smile. He winked. The door clicked shut and Roderich lunged for it, not caring that he wouldn't win a fistfight but just wanting the fight, longing for the feel of bone on bone. It was locked. Of course it was locked. He said he was locking it. The red in his vision dissipated. Roderich leaned against the door, staring up at the ceiling. There was the proof before his eyes. So, it hadn't been talk all along.

For once, Roderich was thankful the bitter cold of the outdoors at night. He needed to feel something on his skin, to remind that this wasn't all just one long nightmare. Didn't he used to be so smart, ahead of all the other players on the board? What the hell happened to him? Ever since the Thirty Years' War, it felt like he'd become the biggest loser on the continent. The only one who dared challenge him was France. Now look where he was.

"Oh, hello Roderich! Out for a lovely stroll this evening too?" Roderich screamed. Ivan put his hands up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. You seemed so lonely out here, like you needed a friend."

The Russian's eagerness to be a companion in this time was overwhelming. Roderich opened his mouth to reject but realized that wouldn't be believable in the slightest. "Why not. It's probably for the best."

As they strolled through the garden, Ivan prattled on about the beauty of all the flowers and how he wished he could grow some of them at his place. He realized that the Austrian wasn't paying him any mind and stopped. "Are you alright? You seem depressed. There's a bench here. Let's sit and you tell me all your worries."

This is not the confidante he would've chosen. If Austria had his pick, he would've gone with...well, Spain but it seemed a few centuries too late for that. No, there wasn't anyone else he could turn to who wouldn't be agreeing with him out of obligation. Feeling more isolated, Roderich complied. "I caught Gilbert and Erzsébet..." his voice trailed off. That was a not sentence he wished to complete.

"Goodness. Well, good for you! Maybe we should go back in, there must be a lot of blood in your room. I know all the best tricks for cleaning it out!" Ivan slapped him on the shoulder. It was meant to be good-natured, but it felt as if he'd been hit by a bullet. "Gilbert's a good friend, but I can't deny he had it coming."

Roderich grimaced. "You give me too much credit. I froze up. The most I could do was trip over my feet. Gilbert then locked me out of my own damn room. Not before winking at me! No, he had to get the last word in as if sleeping with my wife wasn't enough of a message." He pumped a fist weakly. "What makes it worse is that, if this situation were reversed, he wouldn't have hesitated to have gutted me over the carpet."

"Ah, so this is all about how you compare with him."

"Of course it is! Why wouldn't it be? If he's so comfortable acting this way in front of my allies, how will he behave in front of my enemies? What will the Ottomans or France believe when they see I can't even control my own house, but Prussia apparently can? They'd be fools not to side with him."

Ivan quirked an eyebrow up. "Let me get this straight. This is upsetting to you because it's Gilbert taking you on in this realm, that he is more of a husband or what-have-you than you are. Nothing to do with any sort of love or obligation to the woman you are married to?" He laughed. "I would cheat on you too, what an awful marriage."

"Excuse you, I love her very much! She's an excellent cook, she's better at handing our guests than me." Roderich began drawing a blank. "Her...unification with my house brought me more power? Her soldiers are incredibly disciplined."

"Wow, I'm persuaded. How foolish of me to think that this was a marriage purely of political reasons." Ivan shot his companion a look. "That's not love, that's the qualities of an ideal staff member. This is all about the fact that you don't like Prussia having what you thought was off-limits." He waved off Roderich's surprised look. "I spent three weeks with him in 1762 and he told me all about this whole mess. He wouldn't stop gushing about Erzsébet and painting your marriage, whether on paper or not, with her as some way of showing him you got his girl. These last three days show me he wasn't lying. You both are pathetic."

Roderich stared out at the bushes before them. This was not how he was hoping this conversation would go. He knew he wasn't completely blameless in this whole matter, but he didn't like it being so blatantly pointed out. He wanted to grieve for his shattered sense of pride and self-perception. "No, maybe I don't love her, but I possibly could. She was a lovely woman in the beginning. Besides, she's using him."

"You could, but did you ever try? She is, but she's using you as well and you know that. Don't let yourself be blinded."

"I did not, but that could change." Roderich shook his head and looked at his hands. "No, it probably won't. She's too headstrong, it's infuriating. But I could try being nicer. No, we're both horrible to each other. This is a mess." He ran his hands through his hair, not caring about if he messed up his appearance. "It won't be solved in one night, if ever, but I appreciate you for listening and opening my mind up to the truth I didn't want to hear."

Russia shrugged. "That's what I'm here for. Come, let's finish this walk. I want to see the rest of your plants before I'm back with the snow."

They walked in silence for a while, both off in their own little worlds. Roderich hadn't stopped being infuriated at the blatant disrespect he'd received, but he was not about to become a murderer. A marked improvement from where he began the night. He looked over at Ivan, who was gently caressing each flower he passed. He made sure to stop and smell the most beautiful, doing his best to remember the exact scent. Some happy memory to store away when he returned to the bleak winter of Moscow.

"You're a lot more astute than we give you credit for. I've always thought you were a bumbling fool, only useful in battle since he can take so many hits, but you're actually quite intelligent." Austria smiled, thinking this to be a high compliment for any from the East.

"I'm not surprised. Hurt, but not shocked. It is so much easier to deny the humanity of us Slavs when you pretend that you're somehow above us. That you, the paragons of culture, are more European than we could ever be and have the access to the best information as a result." Russia sighed, too used to this. "It's so much easier to have us killed when you deny we're made of the same stuff. It's easier to think that because I fumble over your Latin, French, and English that I'm somehow slower to pick up on things. It gives me an advantage in a certain sense, but it does tire me." He chuckled. "Though, I will have you know that _mein Deutsch ist sehr gute_. Somehow, that one comes naturally."

Testing him, Roderich switched to German, speaking at the pace he would to one of his countrymen. "My sincerest apologies. You're correct to point our tendency to think like that, but to be fair to ourselves we don't have many counter examples to our beliefs. Though I suppose we are in part to blame by striking down Poland. Nevertheless, it is wrong to stereotype so quickly and without prejudice. I can't promise that the rest of my people won't, but I assure you that I will look at you as an equal worthy of mutual respect from now on."

"Thank you, I appreciate that. You can understand how we long for respect? It's so isolating when the world continues to tell you that you and all your people are inferior, despite building up civilizations and a culture able to thrive among the 'civilized' world, and then use our fights with each other as proof that we're no better than all of you. The best was when Britain called me a 'worthy savage'. It was so ridiculous, I couldn't be insulted." Russia had a hearty belly laugh at the memory. For his part, Austria was impressed at how well he kept up. The only flaw was that he spoke in a northern dialect, but that was a lack of taste.

Russia smiled. "You want to hear a good joke? What does a Prussian do that a Russian won't?"

Incredulous, Austria took the bait. "What?"

"Sleep with your wife." Roderich couldn't contain himself. He leaned upon the Russian as they staggered back in the direction of the home, laughing loud enough to probably wake the others up, but without caring if they did. "Can I confess something to you, without you threatening hellfire upon me? I'd never be able to say this back home."

"You're more interested in men than women." The Austrian may be a fool tonight, but he wasn't stupid. "You don't have to worry about that with me. I was married to Antonio and enjoyed every second of it. It would be hypocritical for me to judge any man for that sort of thing."

"Then you'll understand that we're both aligned. It's Gilbert I've been pining for myself. I would love it if we could get him off Hungary and onto me." Russia laughed, trying to smile but looking sad. "Ah, that wouldn't happen though. He really thinks we're only good buddies."

Roderich scrunched his nose up. Why did every person he hoped to form some sort of relationship with have to be in love with his enemy? Where was his luck? "Truth be told, I'm not even sure if you fit his...tastes. I've only seen him leer after women. And for whatever reason, the majority of them fall for it." He put his hand up. "Please don't tell me why. I never wish to understand his appeal."

"I'm not his taste, but not in the way you think. No matter, I'm not hung up on it. You shouldn't be hung up on this either." Ivan did not sound like he wasn't hung up on it. It was shallow advice, but Roderich wasn't going to push him. It felt too soon in this newly budding friendship-of-sorts they were developing. They returned back inside the home. "I should rest, I leave early tomorrow. Goodnight, Roderich, I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Ivan. Sleep well." Surprisingly, Roderich felt at peace. Maybe the fresh air had helped.

The morning brought the slow trickle of nations leaving. As each one departed, Austria felt himself growing more at ease. Britain left before the Austrian was awake, fulfilling his promise to leave obscenely early. With Russia's party disappearing off the property, that left only Prussia. The albino was moving his belongings into his carriage, yoking it up with his driver.

"Excuse me, Gilbert, may I have a moment?" Roderich nodded his head at the driver. "_Alone._"

Gilbert dismissed him and met the Austrian with a large smile. "Thank you for being such a gracious host. I might have had the best sleep of my life last night. Your mattress is fantastic."

The loud clap of skin-on-skin filled the air. Gilbert clutched his cheek and his eyes became all fire. "You little bitch. I bet you slap her around like that."

"Violence is the only thing you respond too. If I want to be understood by a beast, I have to speak like one. Your stupidity makes you brave, I can commend that at times. It also makes you reckless and insolent. If I catch you disrespecting me in such a way as last night, I will ruin you."

Gilbert huffed. "To be afraid of you would be like being afraid of a kitten, don't waste my time." He returned his attention back to his luggage. "You're not mad about anything I may or may not be doing with Erzsi. Stop pretending like she has any meaning to you. You resent what refuses to bend to your will like any other obstinate little prince." He turned back around, eyes like fire and full of glowing hatred. "You may own her hand, but you can never own her heart."

"Neither will you." Roderich's hands balled to fists. There was that same twitching for a fight as last night. It always had to end with this, didn't it?

But something changed. Gilbert's eyes cast down at the ground. He kicked a pebble. "So I've heard." He looked back at the house, with agonizing longing. "But what I've got is more than you. That's the only prize that matters, right? What would we be without chasing such an elusive goal?"

"Happier," Austria's candor surprised even him.

It took Prussia aback as well, who let free a sad smile in reward. "Maybe. We might have to try that someday. But for now, why not keep doing what we're doing? We've forgotten how to do everything else." He opened his mouth, a taunt on his lips, but let it drop. He didn't have the heart for such bravado right now. "This is a meaningless existence. Tell her I'll miss her." With that, he climbed into his carriage.

Austria watched him leave, not minding the dust kicked in face by the horses. The somberness of his rival troubled him, but how could he deny the part of him feeling the same weariness? Trudging back inside, he considered how quickly the world around them was changing. He doubted how much of it was for the better.


End file.
